Look At Me
by What's the Big Idea
Summary: Superhero problems suck. Here's a story about one of them. (May continue, may not. I need more ideas...)


His lady is crying.

His first instinct is to rush over to her, gather her in his arms, and never let go, not until every tear is dry and she's smiling again. He doesn't, because his lady likes her space and will reach out of she truly needs it, but the need to hug her is strong in his chest when he flops down next to her, leaning back with his head towards the edge of the building they're lying on.

She's got her legs pulled up, and her feet are rolled over the rooftop's edge, her arms folded around her like she wants to hug herself. Her mask is waterproof, which means he can see every tear that's rolled down from her eyes to her cheeks.

"My lady?" he asks, when the silence becomes unbearable. "I don't know why you're crying, but if you need a kitten to listen in, I'm happy to lend an ear or two." As if responding to his comment, his leather ears - the ones he can only faintly feel - wiggle.

His lady lets out a small chuckle, weighed down by sadness, but she wipes her tears away and breathes in the midnight air.

He expects her to shake off the sadness and refuse, but instead she says, "Do you mean it?"

"Always." he confirms without pause. He always means it, when it's her.

"Then sit next to me, Chaton," she pats the cold roof like a seat on a couch. "This is a long story."

Once he's settled in, Ladybug leans against his side and lets out a heavy sigh. He isn't sure if he should be happy or sad, because while he's overjoyed that Ladybug feels comfortable enough to lean against him like this, he hates that it takes her being unbelievably sad for it to happen.

"I love being Ladybug," she prefaces, gesturing out at Paris, lit up at night. It's beautiful, a sea of lights which worm their way around the streets and reach out from the ground to wind their way up the Eiffel tower and other Parisian landmarks, gleaming in the chilly air and fuzzing up in his vision. "I love this freedom. I love Paris. And- don't take this the wrong way - I love you, Chaton."

It's too late. He has a silly grin on his face, and he reaches up with one hand to forcibly tug his cheeks down into a more serious expression. "I'm sensing a 'but', and not a pretty one," he says, cautiously leaning towards her.

"Sometimes," she says quietly, so quietly that he wouldn't have heard it save for his feline enhancements, "I hate Ladybug."

Adrien feels something cold in his heart gripping him tightly. It hurts more because it's the same warm grip that made him want to fly before - the same voice in his head, the same shiver in his shoulders.

"I could never give up being Ladybug," she continues, and he lets out a sigh of relief as quietly as he can, "but sometimes I wish Ladybug wasn't famous. That people didn't... revere her. That she was just a shadow, flitting in to protect the people and then flitting out again."

Adrien can't relate. He's been famous, destined to be known, from the moment he was born. He's just glad that the admiration for Chat is genuine. But, he realizes, for someone who's never been famous, it's probably overwhelming and scary. It's probably uncomfortable, having people wanting to know everything about you and being willing to go to great lengths to get that.

"And I don't mean regular fans," she adds. "I don't mean the obsessed ones either, though they're kind of weird. I mean how people treat me as a whole. Like I'm... something special. Different. Inhuman." She waves her hand about in a vague gesture, like she doesn't know what to say. "I hate it. Because they'll look at me and they respect me and want to know about me, but they don't care to see what's already there. They're convinced I'm some fairy from an alien planet come to save humanity, and sometimes I hear about it and feel sick."

Chat Noir has never had this problem. Adrien did, once or twice, but not enough to know quite how Ladybug is feeling. In place of any true understanding, he gently reaches around her back and guides her to fall against his shoulder, gripping the black material of his suit to anchor herself. It's times like this he loves her most, because she's not quite so far out of reach.

(It's times like this he hates the most, because she's vulnerable and he hates seeing her so hurt.)

"And that's alright, too," she continues. "it's fine. I don't want to pay any attention to it, I can do without that in my life, but it's alright. I can't tell them what to do." She frowns, and he hates how torn she looks. "What I hate the most is when people in my everyday life mention her. Bring her up. Talk about her." She grips more tightly. "Some of my friends, Chaton, worship the ground Ladybug walks on and ignore me. Some people - the people who hate me - talk about Ladybug like she's their friend." She lets go and laughs, bitter and cheap. "And the worst part? I have to nod along! I have to agree! I have to let it slip by because once inch more and I give myself away! I fight to have my friends for five minutes, Chaton, and Ladybug gets them effortlessly!"

Adrien has never seen her look more broken than when she breaks off her mocking rant to bury herself in his arms and cry.

He desperately tries to remember what a good friend would do. It's with this in mind that he gently tugs her into a hug, arms loose but firm around her shaking frame, and one clawed hand rolling down her back and in soothing circles, soothing her the best way he can. He starts up a rumbling purr, quiet but deep, and her sobs slow into sniffles.

She pulls away. He lets her go, but she soon falls back into his side, letting him wrap one arm around her to keep her there.

"Today," she breathes out shakily, "I overheard someone talking. Someone I... someone I want to be closer to." Ladybug stares off into the distance, eyes focused on everything and nothing, like she's somewhere far away from next to him, curled into his side. "I... I get tongue tied. I've tried and tried to get his attention, Chaton, but I can't do it. And today I heard him talking to his friend about Ladybug. That he loves her." She snorts bitterly. "Loves her, Chaton! When we've barely talked! When all I want-" she gulps in a gasp, "-is for him to notice I'm there."

Chat's heart breaks for her, in more ways than one. He feels intensely guilty, because he knows that he could easily be that guy - it's a secret, as Adrien, but Nino knows that he's got a huge crush on her, and he wonders if he's ever passed over Ladybug, the glamour on their masks forcing them apart. It could be him tearing her apart and he'd never know.

"And, and..." She breaths sharply. He pulls her in closer, half-expecting her to push away but relishing guiltily in how she easily moves towards him. "...my best friend. She's... she's obsessed with Ladybug." She throws up her arms, bending away from him and slumping off from his side. "Sometimes it feels like it's all we ever talk about! During class, during break, on sleepovers, when we're out on the town... it's always about Ladybug, and so rarely about me. And I can't say a word against it because it's her life and all I'd come off as is a jealous bitch!"

Chat imagines his widescreen computer with the Ladybug background and the bookmarked Ladyblog and considers changing his habits, if it bugs LB this much.

"She goes running out towards Akuma attacks just to see her and gives me a heart attack every other day." She huffs, but the bitterness, thank kwami, is ebbing away. "I love her, Chaton, but I wish... sometimes I wish she listened to me. I tell her to be careful, to play it safe because I can't keep her safe, and she says, don't worry," she leans back, falling gently onto the roof. "Ladybug will fix it." She closes her eyes and sighs.

"So," she shrugs. "That's what's been going on with me. How are you, Chaton?"

"...good, to be honest," he replies, quietly. "Hey, LB?"

"Yeah, Chaton?"

"Do I... just, it just occurred to me..." He gulps. "Do I make you uncomfortable? At all?"

Ladybug opens one bluebell eye, and a soft smile on her face makes his heart hammer. "Only occasionally," she answers easily, closing her eyes again. The smile doesn't leave. "You can be annoying, but as loathe as I am to admit it, your puns and flattery are a part of you. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The smile on his face is overpowering. He'd never realized smiling could hurt before, and he can't find it in himself to regret it. "I love you too, my lady," he says fondly.

She laughs, and everything's alright again.


End file.
